For the Birds
by yadon
Summary: With a prospering career, a stable network of friends and associates, and what many might view as an ideal romantic relationship (not that it's any of their business!) Simon couldn't and won't ask for anything more. So Fool Bright takes it upon himself to do the asking that Simon won't. [Obvious AU, Post-DD; Domestic Fluff, for latesummersolstice]


After a long, exhausting day in court, there was nothing Simon looked more forward to than another dull evening with Fool Bright.

Some might not have considered Fool Bright's apartment within walking distance from the courthouse but Simon could hardly gripe about having to cover close to thirty blocks. Seeing as how he'd spent seven years with only an area of twelve feet by twelve feet to pace around in, he enjoyed every single step he took, especially since each brought him closer to Fool Bright.

With his own set of keys, Simon attempted to slip in unnoticed. And just as always, his attempt faltered thanks to the horrendous scream alerting Fool Bright – and likely every one else on the second floor – that he had arrived.

He glared darkly at the guinea pig several feet away, and it stared back at him with its soulless eyes.

That fat lump seemed to be perpetually hibernating in its cage, only stirring to cry at Simon whenever he came around. _Her_ name was Rex, due to the fact that Fool Bright had always wanted to train a K-9 and had never received the opportunity to, and decided to pass the name he'd chosen for this hypothetical mutt onto a sedentary, beady-eyed ball of fluff instead.

Simon admired the _principle_ of the whole thing, Fool Bright adopting a baby Rex from a family that had been evicted from the complex about eight months ago. But dammit if he didn't want to bring Taka around and see if Rex would be as vocal in acknowledging him, if Taka were there to screech back.

"Good evening, Simon!" Fool Bright appeared from the kitchen, which was separated from the living room only by the long counter at which they would dine at.

As had become routine, Fool Bright's greeting consisted of more than words. His hands set steady on Simon's arms, his mouth pressed to Simon's in a soft, welcoming kiss.

It tasted a bit spicy, herby – clearly Fool Bright had sampled the dinner he was in the midst of making. Despite the pleasant sensation of it all, Simon couldn't muster up the energy to do much more than sigh, dropping his head.

Somehow Fool Bright was usually capable of gauging how he should approach Simon the rest of the night strictly by how the greeting went. What distance he should or should not keep, and whether physical affection would or would not be readily accepted.

But Simon wasn't sure how he should be approached in this moment even, let alone the rest of the evening. He was, quite simply, just thankful this moment was occurring.

"Dinner's just about ready." His words were gentle, as was his touch as his fingers slid through Simon's hair. He seemed to be more captivated than ever by it, now that it was a third of the length it had been.

"Good." In the background, Rex screeched again, and Simon pushed Fool Bright along towards the kitchenette. "I'm guessing it's not guinea pig a la king."

Fool Bright nudged him back with a "Hey!" that was probably intended to be more threatening than it actually was, neutralized by the ever-constant smile plastered to his face.

Simon found his place at the counter – his back to the living room, preferable so that infernal guinea pig was out of his sight – and waited for Fool Bright to put the finishing touches on dinner.

Four stools bordered the counter, but only two were empty; the others were piled with all sorts of miscellaneous items such as DVDs, novels and biographies, and even a zip-up sweatshirt emblazoned with the GYAXA logo. All of them, Simon realized, were his. He ought to take them back to GYAXA at some point, and he most certainly _would_ if Fool Bright requested it of him.

But Fool Bright had yet to, nor had given any indication he would.

It was hardly the fanciest set-up, this simple box of a one-bedroom apartment Fool Bright called home. A far cry from the spacious, clinical atmosphere of GYAXA or the joyless dungeon he'd nearly spent his final days in, Simon had found himself here more often than not when he wasn't at work _._ This Formica counter, the cozy living room with its battered acid-yellow couch, Fool Bright's room and his closet...

Many of Simon's belongings had migrated from the space center to every corner of Fool Bright's apartment over the past several months; the only thing that hadn't was their owner.

Some rendition of vegetable lasagna, all baked neatly together in a skillet, was set upon the countertop. The bubbling cheese and savory aroma of the sauce tempted Simon to just start digging in right out of the pan.

Some nights Fool Bright wouldn't be home yet and Simon would help himself to a bowl of cereal or a peanut butter sandwich. He wasn't finicky about his meals, as they were all palatable and not gritty or undercooked like so much of what he had ingested while in prison.

But there was something he enjoyed more thoroughly about these homemade meals. Athena had been hounding him to learn to cook for himself, but why should he, when his Fool Bright was more than ready and plenty competant? Why, he stated to her, would he fix what was not broken, after a life that had once been shattered into a state beyond any sort of repair?

As they ate, Fool Bright devoted himself to also sorting through the week's worth of mail resting on the edge of the counter, systematically separating bills from letters, coupon flyers and advertisments from catalogues.

Simon was perfectly content with just _eating_. He did not comprehend why one would need all sorts of outside stimuli to aid them through what should be an effortless procedure. But Fool Bright, being Fool Bright, might very well self-implode if forced to tackle but one task at a time – justice was efficient, after all – and so Simon accepted it much like Fool Bright accepted Simon's many eccentricities.

"Sir, look." Fool Bright waved a small envelope about, and Simon could see it'd been addressed in inkpen. A personal letter of some sort.

"I do not care about _your_ post." A forkful of lasagna hovered inches from his lips. "Just go on and open it."

"Oh, no, _look_!" Fool Bright pushed the envelope closer to Simon, and Simon saw exactly what he was referencing. "It's addressed to both of us. Which reminds me, did you sign us up for some sort of membership to the Shipshape Aquarium? Because a welcome package from them arrived yesterday, and it had these penguin magnets in it, and I know I didn't order it and -"

Simon tightened his grip around his fork, the way one might around the hilt of a trusty sword. "Open the damn letter, Fool Bright."

Fool Bright did as instructed, not before directing an amused smirk at Simon.

"Oh, it's a wedding announcement! Would you look at that, Mr. Wright is getting married to a Maya Fey, and we're invited."

Simon took the card from Fool Bright, and turned it over, examining it. "Hm, it seems awful... _vague_ for a wedding invitation. There's no mention of venue or attire, or an RSVP by."

"I don't think this is a real invitation. I'm pretty sure these are called 'Save the Date'. You know, it lets all their friends know ASAP that they should keep their schedules open so they can attend."

"Yes, I understand the purpose of it. But what I'm concerned with..." He tapped the fancy calligraphy on the card. "The date... that's nearly half a year from now."

"Oh, yeah, it is!" Fool Bright beamed. "But that gives us plenty of time to make sure we have the day off. I'll be sure to request it tomorrow, just to be safe."

"That..." _was not what I meant_. Simon handed back the letter, leaving his sentence unfinished. He couldn't say Fool Bright was playing dumb. No, he was every bit certain that come summertime, he and Simon would still be _together_ , and would attend _together_.

A confused, concerned blink. "Sir?"

"Pass the parmesan."

Fool Bright picked up the shaker of cheese, his smile becoming more knowing. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

As Fool Bright continued to shuffle through his post, Simon noticed a separate pile forming, all of which appeared to be whatever Fool Bright could not make heads or tails of. That were in all likelihood, much like the Shipshape package, for Simon.

GYAXA only had a P.O. Box, and he did not trust the mail room at the prosecutor's office, not after the background check he'd paid to have done express on a key witness was found a week later beneath a now ex-clerk's collection of fantasy sports printouts.

It was just... easier to have everything sent to Fool Bright's. Of course, he often had to have it addressed to Fool Bright himself, to ensure it was delivered, but that was a small price to pay for a system that was ultimately rather seamless.

 _Easier._ That was certainly a way to think of such a roundabout process, Simon mused. But Fool Bright... his involvement in everything thus far, had made life in general quite... _easy_. As much as it could be, when Simon felt it to be such a chore sometimes, this gradual adaptation he faced with his new, old life.

"How was the trial today?" Fool Bright's question intercepted Simon's attention, brought him back to the present.

Small talk. Right, a concept lost on him even before his imprisonment. He had been getting better over the past year with both initiating and providing it, between all this time with Fool Bright and the many interactions he'd had with Cykes-dono and her associates at the agency.

He understood better now, how even though the general idea of idle chit-chat seemed useless, in many ways it did give insight to the person speaking. And, in all honesty, since he cared very much for Fool Bright, hearing about his day and other tedium was not as tiresome as he would have assumed. On the contrary, Simon had yet to grow weary of the zest for life Fool Bright displayed, to the point that he himself had found contentment simply from Fool Bright radiating it so strongly.

"I reigned victorious, and now the streets of Los Angeles are rid of yet another contemptible criminal." Simon picked around the pieces of spinach embedded within the noodles. "Life in prison, without the possibility of parole."

"That's great, Sir, I knew you'd make certain justice prevailed! I'll bet Ms. Young's family is forever grateful to you."

"Yes, yes. They went on about closure and relief, a heavy burden lifting. That now Diane's spirit is allowed to find peace and cross over, and all this other malarkey. But if that is what offers them the most solace, then who I am to refute it?"

Fool Bright murmured in agreement. Simon swallowed a couple more mouthfuls of lasagna before remembering how Fool Bright, though always talkative, responded more cheerfully and openly when prompted.

"What about you? Anything new or interesting to report?"

"Well, I got a humidifier to put by Mittens's cage, so he's comfy all year round."

"Oh, you mean Bloodlust?" Simon refrained from rolling his eyes, wondering if Fool Bright chattered about him to his pets as much as he did vice-versa. "Keep this up and you will be featured on the cover of _Chameleon_ _Lovers_ _Monthly_. My sincerest congratulations, in advance."

"That's not his name anymore, you know that! It's _Mittens_ , because that's what his little chameleon claws look like." Fool Bright curled his free hand open and closed, miming the claws which he spoke of.

Yet another poor creature rescued at the hands of Fool Bright. One of his fellow officers had gifted Bloodlust to her teenage son, who, as adolescent boys are prone to doing, shirked his responsibilities tending to the reptile. And since no one in their right mind would voluntarily adopt a chameleon, of all things, without prior experience caring for one, that was precisely why Fool Bright stepped in, giving Bloodlust a new home and a new name.

"You speak as if he may hear us, and be personally offended." Simon's dry tone suggested Mittens would be anything _but_ , nor any other emotion.

"Chameleons have feelings too, Sir! I can see it, he's so much happier now, being named Mittens and getting the proper care."

It was beyond _proper;_ the lizard was spoiled, which Simon recognized all too well from how he himself doted on Taka. Fool Bright had even rid himself of the TV in his living room, rearranged the furniture so Bloodlust or Mittens or whatever its ruddy name was could have a well-lit area all to its own in the corner furthest from the entrance.

Simon couldn't say that it didn't make Fool Bright all the more appealing in his eyes, this uncontrived dedication of his to protect man and beast alike.

But the nuances of a chameleon's soul was not a discussion Simon was going to have. Now, or ever.

"I have doled out more than my daily quota of objections in court today, Fool Bright. I can not bring myself to dispense another."

"So you concede? You're saying I win this time? Haha, I knew you couldn't deny it!"

"There are no winners in this conversation."

"Except Mittens."

Simon sighed and, after a few final bites, placed his fork down. He had been so hungry, and now, even after not having finished one serving, could not stomach any more.

"Simon...? Are you okay?"

"I am, yes. Thank you." He wasn't, no, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly _how_ so. And he liked very much that Fool Bright had slipped into using his first name occasionally, rather than addressing him professionally, so he had no trouble pulling up a tired smile to support his words. "You wouldn't mind saving what's left for me to bring to work, would you?"

"Oh, no! It's all yours."

Simon knew he should play the part of the gracious guest and help clear the table, but when he offered, Fool Bright turned him down, and just did it all himself. Quickly, too.

"Are you planning on staying, or...?" Fool Bright asked as he started up the coffee maker for his nightly cup.

"Yes, I shall." Simon couldn't understand why Fool Bright always asked that. For it was always the same answer, that, yes, he would stay over and Fool Bright would drive them both to work in the morning. The only way in which to return to GYAXA at this point in the evening was by cab, and Simon had not the energy to expend on calling one and hoping it arrived in a timely matter with a competent driver.

But funnily, even if he could have returned to GYAXA as quickly as by teleporting, he would have chosen to stay. Every time.

"Okay, good! You know where to find me if you need me."

Simon had the distinct notion that Fool Bright would never let a second go by that Simon _wouldn't_ know where to find him.

* * *

This was another part of Simon's routine when it came to the many evenings he visited Fool Bright: hours by himself in the living room. He had no issue passing those hours, usually with a book or the assortment of games that came stored on the digital tablet he'd purchased at behest of Athena insisting he not be like Mr. Wright, and stay at the forefront of technology's latest advances.

Fool Bright would leave him to his own devices, occupy himself in his room either with his own work or with primetime programming. And if Simon desired his company, for whatever reason, it was up to Simon to seek him out.

And Simon would, sometimes to watch an episode or two of whatever show Fool Bright had tuned in to. Well, he hardly actually watched, just laid there in silence and absorbed the pleasantness of _being there_.

Other nights, his venture into Fool Bright's room was for a completely different purpose, one that did not need any sort of introduction or explanation. Some of the days he endured at the prosecutor's office caused a great deal of stress on his end, that a half-hour romp in the sheets more than dispelled.

Although sometimes he _wasn't_ the least bit keyed up from work. Sometimes he just couldn't get past how deeply his affection for Fool Bright ran.

Simon worried quite often that, even with the distance he managed to keep, he would be perceived as needy. Oppressive. Demanding, even, with the expectation that every night should entail both a meal and sexual activity. Especially considering he never slept in the same bed as Fool Bright – he needed the couch, needed to stretch out unencumbered by another person wound around him – it could very well be insinuated this was all just a momentary reprieve of sorts for Simon. Him honing himself in the matter of _living_ before he was sharp enough to strike out on his own.

It were as if he were Taka – any hawk – circling the same territory again and again but only ever briefly alighting. Long enough to feed, to take care of other certain needs, and then flapping off again. Back to the vastness of the sky. To no particular destination.

GYAXA was satisfactory enough for a temporary residence. Rent was _free_ (although Simon donated portions of his salary, out of gratitude), and that alone had caused him to choose it as a place to lay his head in the months following his exoneration. There was plenty of room to spare, many of the labs and training areas no longer being utilized now that there was no permanent staff remaining other than Director Cosmos.

But it was not a home. And that was what Simon wanted, not just a place to eat or sleep or read mail.

Except, a home was not a place one should _ask_ for. It was a place that... _happened_ on its own. That _became_ itself.

And the fact that he couldn't dream up anywhere better than this hideous sofa, between the fluorescent lights warming a chameleon and a guinea pig that hadn't quit scuffling through her filling for the past half hour, told Simon perhaps he should cease his endless search for somewhere to touch down. He could fly to the ends of the earth and not find anywhere more welcoming than here.

He just had to wait for the day Fool Bright saw it in that light as well.

* * *

Simon stood by kitchen sink and drained the last sip of the spearmint tea he'd prepared. He was just about to retire back to the living room, when he heard the oddest thing from outside.

Birds.

Not that birds roosting in and around apartment complexes was uncommon, but these chirps and tweets he did not recognize as belonging to any native species of their neighborhood, or even this region of the country.

It sounded as though it were coming from the outdoor balcony attached to kitchen. As there was no window, that he might be able to view the whole balcony, he set the teacup down and slid open the glass door that led outside.

It was only about ten feet in length, so narrow two people could hardly stand comfortably facing each other. But it was the perfect size for those who fancied an outdoor hobby. The other balconies around the complex were occupied with grills or various plants or sports equipment.

Fool Bright's had a bird cage.

Simon inched closer, incredulous to what he was seeing but seeing it very plainly all the same. A large cage, resting on a cheap plastic square table, containing two lovebirds.

True to their name, the pair was snuggled up to each other. Both shined with vivid green coats and orangey-red heads, although the one on the left was orangier than the one on the right.

Carefully, Simon unlatched the cage door. The orangier one, without the barest reservations, hopped right to the open frame of the door, and tilted its head up. Studied Simon for a few minutes, as he studied it in return.

It was very... darling, sweet, the way it seemed so instantly approving of Simon's presence. He couldn't help but smile as the bird finally dropped its head and flittered back to the perch its feed dish was hooked beside.

Just as gently as he'd opened the door, he shut it with a click.

It was a second _click!_ from behind him that startled him, caused him to swear pointedly and whirl around.

"What in the...?!"

There was Fool Bright, a few steps away peering onto the porch and in the midst of lowering his phone.

"How long have you been standing there?!"

"Long enough to see you've met Elric and Winry, and send a picture of it to Ms. Cykes!"

Bloody hell, he'd deal with _that_ later. At this point, he had a more pressing issue. Fool Bright couldn't _possibly_ mean...

"Who are 'Elric' and 'Winry'?" Besides, Simon knew, characters in an anime series he had recently introduced Fool Bright to, having binged on watching twenty episodes two Saturdays ago, their last mutual day off.

"They're lovebirds, see!" Fool Bright closed in on Simon, and gestured to the cage. Simon glanced to see the birds nestled upon their perch, cuddled up in peaceful bliss. "They come in pairs. I just bought them the other day. You know that pet store near Ms. Cykes's office? Well, I stopped by to pick up the humidifier for Mittens, and... it's so loud, and they looked so scared. And they get handled a dozen times a day by people who don't know what they're doing, and... I couldn't let them live one more day there!"

Simon was half-surprised Fool Bright had not issued some sort of violation to the pet store that would have shut it down permanently, so he could adopt every last animal inside.

"And weren't you going to inform me of this sometime in the near future? I would have... preferred hearing about them over all your yammering about Bloodlust."

"Of course! But I wanted them to get more used to being here, just with me, and... and they were asleep when you arrived, anyway." Fool Bright sighed, dejected. It was evident he honestly _had_ wanted to introduce them to Simon, but Simon could understand where he was coming from. A new home and a new owner – especially Fool Bright – took some getting used to.

At least they had each other, which reminded Simon...

"Well, that would have taken you _quite_ some time considering the fact that lovebirds take far longer to bond with their owner if they're paired off. Did you not do _any_ research before you made off with them? "

"Some! But I've been so busy lately, what, with the new training class and all." Not an exaggeration. The only reason Fool Bright had been home before Simon today was due to the length of Simon's trial. "And I thought I could always ask you, Sir, if I needed any advice on taking care of birds. I just wanted to take them home as soon as possible."

"You were just _assuming_ I would assist you in caring for them?" Not that Fool Bright was incorrect in the slightest, but Simon didn't appreciate assumptions, regardless of how accurate they may or may not be.

"Well... kind of, but I can take good care of them all on my own! I mean, you can see them as much as you like when you come over, but don't feel like you have to..."

"Do you not... oh, _dammit_." Simon paused, exhaled deeply through his nose to allow enough time to collect himself. "Fool Bright, listen. I understand you want to aid these creatures, but you have not the _time_ to do it, not sufficiently anyway, without wearing yourself thin. You – anyone – either requires assistance, or should not be taking on so many in the first place. I expressly forbid you from adopting any more."

"Sir, if... if it really bothers you _that_ much, then why don't you just stay here and help?"

" _Stay_?! I can not just _stay_ in your apartment all day to monitor your pets!" Although a very small part of Simon _was_ rather tempted to do so. The lovebirds, at least. "You should have thought about your schedule _before_ you impulsively purchased not one, but _two_ new additions to your already oversized menagerie!"

Besides Rex and Mittens, an impressive fish tank sat in Fool Bright's bedroom. Housed within were an assortment of betta and neon tetra, all with ridiculous names and all with an ability to disconcert Simon considering whenever he saw them (and they saw him back), it wasn't because he was in Fool Bright's room to _sleep_.

"No, no," Fool Bright laughed his sunshiney laugh. "Of course I'm not saying for you to quit your job. I just mean, when you get done every day, you would... come here! _Live_ here! You're here all the time anyway. And then you could get to know Elric and Winry, and the fish, and -"

"Bloodlust?"

" _Mittens_ , and Rex... and they could get to know you, too. And I know _I'd_ like it if you were here more."

There was a time he would have been terrified, balked at the whole concept of being, ultimately, _committed_ to another human being. Not because he couldn't handle such a request, but because of just how much of his life had been altered the last time he honored a commitment to someone he cherished dearly.

But now...

Yes, life would be unequivocally changed again if he agreed to this, that much he knew. He had no reason to believe that change would not be for the better, but all the same he wanted to make double-sure Fool Bright was truly asking what Simon believed he was.

What Simon _hoped_ – ardently, unapologetically hoped – he was.

"Are you suggesting that, after spending the better part of a decade imprisoned – that is to say, quite literally and figuratively _chained down_ with no hope to ever taste the sweetness of freedom again – you would have me serve what is, essentially, another life sentence?"

"It's hardly a suggestion!" Fool Bright's grin stretched wider, as if that were possible. "In order to ensure Elric and Winry are properly taken care of, the safest course of action would be for you to live here – for good! Ethically speaking, you don't have much of a choice."

"Hmph. You are being incredibly presumptuous, that I would harbor no objections to this proposition of yours."

"Oh, haha, I _know_ you don't!" A strong pair of arms looped around Simon and pulled him close, lips brushing against his own. "Simon... You haven't stopped smiling since I brought it up."

And then Simon _did_ stop smiling, his mouth parting to accommodate the sudden kiss Fool Bright trapped him in.

"I accept," he breathed out around the kiss.

Fool Bright's reply was to kiss him with even more longing, a possessiveness Simon couldn't prevent his own body from responding in full to.

They staggered back inside, eventually ending up in the short hallway connecting the living room to Fool Bright's bedroom. Simon instinctively arched towards Fool Bright, driven by an overpowering urge to have every last inch of himself claimed and intimately explored.

Despite this single-mindedness, a decidedly separate topic clung steadfastly to the edges of Simon's thoughts.

"Might I inquire..." he asked, his voice hushed and warm, a measure reserved only for Fool Bright. "How long had you been entertaining the idea of... of just _us_?"

"Justice? Haha, what kind of question is that? I'm _always_ thinking about justice. Remember? In just us, I trust!"

"Silence, Fool Bright!" Simon tried to shove him off, but could only manage a half-hearted blow upon his upper arm. "Curse you and your deliberate obfuscation. Forget I asked and return to what you were doing."

"Why does it matter how long I've been thinking about it? What matters most is that you're happy. It's good to see you so excited about something." Fool Bright's tone lowered, his hold secure on Simon's hips. "I am too, you know."

Heat raced along his neck, across his cheeks, as Simon realized just what Fool Bright was referring to by "excited". It immediately put him on guard, but he found himself unable and _unwilling_ to defend as Fool Bright loosened his belt.

"N-No. This... this living together nonsense, it's... stop it! Stop your moronic grinning." Nor did he resist when Fool Bright unbuttoned his vest, shucking it off to fall to the floor. "I never said I was _excited_ about it, it's merely out of practicality! It's all... It's only...!"

Fool Bright's hands curled firmly under Simon's thighs, lifting him and allowing his legs to wrap tight as Simon's own arms draped over Fool Bright's shoulders.

A moan fluttered off Simon's lips as the hallway wall came in solid contact with his back. Another impatient groan – was it him or Fool Bright? –created by the friction of their bodies flush against each other as they showed all the restraint of hormonal teenagers partaking in such an activity for the first time. Simon's legs squeezed hard around Fool Bright's waist, though that did little to release all the tension thrumming within him.

Fighting to regain his footing, Simon found it just long enough to throw a nod in the direction of the bedroom before clutching hold of Fool Bright's shirt and capturing his mouth once again.

Fool Bright wanted the fish to get to know him, did he? At any rate, tonight they would grow far too acquainted with Simon's voice, if they hadn't already.

Word would get out sooner or later, about this _development_ between Prosecutor Blackquill and Detective Fulbright. Simon didn't predict that anyone other than Athena would question him about the finer details of it all – the when and the why, or the _really_ , _now_?

But if they _did_ ask, Simon knew he would answer with a scoff, neither confirming nor denying. He'd tell whoever dared pry, as he'd failed to tell Fool Bright as they tripped along to the bedroom in a twisted display of limbs and kisses, that the prospect of such an arrangement between them was _entirely_ for the birds.

* * *

 _Wrote this as a (late) birthday present for my friend,_ _ **latesummersolstice**_ _on tumblr. And since it was for her, I had to include a hint of her OTP. Anyway, for the most part this is just self-indulgent fluff, so yep. Hope you enjoyed. :]_


End file.
